All will fall
by olansamuelle
Summary: Lucretia centered fic. Post "Kill them all". Vengeance shall come and they all will fall.


**Title: **All will fall

**Fandom: **Spartacus: blood and sand / Vengeance

**Characters: **Lucretia, Ashur and others.

**Summary: **Vengeance shall come and they all will fall.

**Notes: **This fic comes from and strictly follows LJ user staringiscaring 's prompt "Spartacus: _**Lucretia, biding my time while my enemies sleep (or how Lucretia went mad and plotted against everyone who crossed her)**_" It's a one part fic, it shall not have continuation, but some of the aspects are being further explored in my WIP sequel to "A Distant Memory".

_**OOOOO**_

_**I. Awakening.**_

_Everything._

_Everything is in my grasp. My whole being swells with life and joy to the point that I feel for the rest of the world, for I know the gods choose but a handful of people to be able to share this unfathomable fortune, the indescribable feeling of having it all and still look with conviction ahead, knowing there are even more brighter things to come._

_As I walk the corridor, the cheer of the crowd echoes in my ears, and I find myself ignoring it, no longer feeling the need for it. For the first time since I set foot in Capua, I do not cherish the games. Never would I forsake them, for the games, the gladiatorial world is part of who I am. Of who we are, Quintus and me. Without those ignited people, we would have never walked this path. We would not be where we are today._

_Despite my disinterest, my eyes travel to the side, lured by beams of sunlight sneaking through the planks, and I see him as he fights. Crixus, the Gaul. My favoured man for long years. The bearer of the seed that now grows within me, today fallen from the pedestal and fighting his way back to a glory he shall never wield again. Every man has his time of glory. Gannicus came before him. Soon afterwards Crixus claimed such mantle, and won it by right. Now Spartacus is the champion, and soon he shall be his executioner. I still remember the untamed man, though, a dwarf among chiseled titans yet with the ambition and courage enough to be taught and stand proud as another brother. Quintus soon saw his potencial, and the sweetest pair of eyes I have had the fortune to meet opened mine to his raw beauty._

_The same pair of eyes that welcome me now, framing a smile and open arms. _"My dear, you look radiant."

_And her voice alone silences a thousand people cheering for blood above us, muffling the excitement beyond the wood that shelters us from prying eyes. My arms extend towards, leading me closer, more quickly. _"You always look upon me with approving eyes."

"Honest in their devotion."

_She is here, with me, and everything feels right. She is wearing her green dress, the one she chose for the last celebration we had together at our house, but my eyes notice an absence of a particulary favourite ornament of hers. _"You are not wearing it."

_Her eyes follow mine and she smiles in understanding. _"I lent it to a friend. Yet I think she does not need it anymore." _There's mischievousness in her tone, but also seriousness._

_Is she right? I do have everything now, have I not? Our lives finally move forward, beyond the arena and the ludus. Our son shall be born in Rome, Quintus said, the Palatine rising proud before his eyes. The core of the Republic and its marble instead of Capua and a vast immensity of nothingness._

"I always favoured your natural colour."

_I take off the wig and let my chesnut locks fall graciously, smiling at Gaia's delight. _"I thought red was your predilect."

"On me." _Smiling, she takes the covering of artificial hair from my hands, taking them with hers. _"When I was with you," _she says while kissing my fingertips,_ "a bright colour was the only way for me to lure some attention to myself."

_I protest. _"Gaia, that is not-"

_Her lips silence mine and we let the kiss linger. Her hands travel towards my belly, never shying away from my skin, from neck to navel._

"To life, Lucretia." _She looks at me. _"Cling to life, and be the strong woman you know you are."

_And with those words she fades away; her eyes looking at me in confidence and love are the last thing I remember seeing. I want to say something, yet my thoughts are steered away from meaning words by a standing figure beside me._

"A trusted friend, sorely missed."

"The best friend one could have," _I add convinced._ "Only exceeded by you." _The crowd outside cheers fiercely. As I let my husband's hand explore between my thighs, I look ahead and let my eyes drink one last time from the sight of the mighty warrior. A true force of nature that will soon be silenced._

_The sun hits our already sweaty skins, as Quintus pushes me against the oval wall circling the arena and impaciently seeks for his cock as he clears away the cloth from my orange dress._

_Is that a blood stain on it?_

"Crixus" _Thrust _"has" _Thrust_ "to die." _Thrust. Painful, yet I welcome the touch. _"All must fall, Lucretia," _he whispers in my ear as his body urges him to get as close to me as he can._

_I see blood._

_Crixus fights._

_The blade. It slices the flesh. Roars of vengeance pierce my ears, and screams of… of fear. Who screams? I do recognize the voices. Who is it? The magistrate's widow? Why would she scream? Where…where am I?_

_Thrust._

_Blood._

_Pain._

_Everything. _"Everything is in our grasp, Quintus."

"And yet it slips from our hands like the grains of sand beneath our feet."

_It is not the sand that I am standing on. It is the floor of our house, and it is cold. I am cold, yet I burn. _"I love you, Quintus."

_Blood. It hurts._

"I love you."

"Please." _He sounds exhausted, out of breath. _"Live, Lucretia."

_The pain becomes unbearable, his moans of pleasure turn into those of pain, not his, but mine. Why am I in such pain? The arena is gone, so is the crowd and the gladiators. All gone. Quintus lies still._

_The truth hits me so hard I almost vomit as I twist on the bed I find myself in. My hand unconsciously moves to my stomach in protective nature. It still has not realized._

_Everything. Everything was in my grasp. Then I lost it all._

_And now I return._

_**OOO**_

_**II. Reality**_

"Quintus!"

_It takes time to come to grips with reality. The physical pain is excruciating enough, and my mind refuses to confront more. To face the worst. Every time I wake up, the same torturing ritual ensues. Pain, confussion, truth. Spartacus was indeed a curse, a terrible beast fueled by wrath that weaved its way through our flesh, leading all the slaves with him. All gone now._

"Domina."

_All but one. The only slave that did not belong with them, the traitor among his equals, a loyal dog to his masters. He remained behind, dragging me from death's grasp knowing I was his chance of survival when all slaves tied to the House of Batiatus had been marked as a plague. I have become Capua's martyr, he told me. My city feels for me, weeps for my misfortune and prays to the gods for my recovery. The best medicus tended my wound, and commanded Ashur to keep me here, in my own house, unmoved and in the most hygienic of conditions under the circumstances before he found it secure to move me. The new magistrate himself and his wife offered to shelter me during my final stage of recovery. There I shall improve among the best of cares and the finest company, my name growing in sympathy by the day._

_While that moment arrives, I have soon learned to value these solitary moments, to use them to my advantage. I eagerly drink the herbs Ashur has brought me before dismissing him with a wave of my hand. As he goes, I slowly lay back, waiting for the pain to subside, to feel that now familiar numbness allowing me to remind me of those names, enduring the pain they bring to my existence. I embrace the suffering, being the strong woman she believed I was, and clinging to life as he asked me. There is a new purpose in my life, and the gods have turned the tables in my favour._

_Ilithyia, Crixus, Spartacus, Glaber. All will fall._

_Starting with her._

_**OOO**_

_**III. Ilithyia**_

_She may have not been the hand that thrust the sword into my belly, piercing my child, nor the ruthless arm slaying Quintus in a single strike, but she trapped us all in this house to be slaughtered while she took her vile perfection away. Surely she knows I escaped death. But I wonder if her mind holds the possibility of me knowing her secret. To harbor such disdain for others' lives, leaving us all to die at the hands of those animals. She may blame this house for her misfortunes, but this place only discovered the truth lying within. The world of blood, sex and sand challenged her, and as she did not survive it, she tried to leave it behind._

_My dearest Ilithyia. You cannot escape your fate. I am it._

_I turn, umcomfortable, calling Ashur as soon as I know the source of my discomfort. My body does not sustain solid food, and I'm surviving on liquids and a disgusting porridge the Syrian makes. I do not know whether the cook of the slaves died or is roaming the streets with the rest, yet I long for the moment my stomach allows some solid food, if only fruit no filthy slave has to prepare. Ashur comes promptly. _"Help me stand, and take me to the pool."

"Apologies, but the medicus gave strict instructions of you not moving Domina, I-"

"The sole thought of you cleaning me while I lay unconscious turns the stomach. I shall not endure such indignity when awake."

_With a silent nod he approaches and helps me sit up. _"Bring the sandals."_ I await, focusing on not falling while he does as commanded, and then lends his body as support for me to stand and walk, very slowly, all the way to the pool. I dread it there. I dread the whole place. Most of the blood on the floor has been cleaned, yet the still reddened walls are a painful sight. It takes me long to arrive. Ashur helps me while I relieve myself. _"Look away," _I command, but despite keeping my status as master, I cannot help to feel furious at my weakness. _"We need some fucking slaves."

"Yes, Domina."

_The walk back to my chamber presents itself too long in my weak state, but I refuse to show further frailty. _"We have been alone all this time. Why have not the rebels come and use this place?" _The sudden thought is disturbing, yet I need to know. My mind already focuses on vengeance._

"As soon as word spread guards flooded Capua, Domina. Still small in number the rebels left. No one knows where they are now, they hide and attack when unexpected to increase their ranks, yet movement suggests they are going south."

"South? Not north? Not to Rome?"

"No, Domina. Naples, perhaps. They could return to their lands by sea, some think."

_So the savages far, Rome feels safe, the revolt but a speck with no relevance. What if they grew in number and let Rome know the unleashed force I know them to be? I wonder who would face them gaining unmatched glory, and I soon find an answer. One only has to follow the coin and the power. The strongest tree lures the most to its sheltering shadow under the burning sun._

"Is there word on Ilithyia?" _My emotions are betrayed by my tone. _"Is she back in Rome?"

"So I was confirmed, Domina."

_But of course she would go there. To her father first in order to ensure her control over her husband, with an unquenchable thirst for power, Senator Albinius his only source for it now. He was soon to be named praetor, yet such title is not enough to let him stand on his own._

_Glaber loathed Spartacus, yet when he last visited us he was pleased to see him kneel at his command; he is no longer driven by hate, not enough to pursue him. Capua's slaughter was a tragedy, but eyes that not see, do not allow the heart to feel. And Rome does not feel. It needs to see, it needs to be told by the eyes that saw it all._

_And it all becomes clear in my mind. Glaber stands in perilious ground if the right heads are reminded that it was him who brought the leader of the revolt to Roman soil. My husband's hand in the wife's death, the horse upon which the Thracian rode his vengeance is a knowledge well concealed, thus he would be the only one to blame, and Albinius, father-in-law and patron stained in the process. The Senator, still overwhelmed by his daughter's story of survival would urge him to ride in pursue of the rebels._

_With him gone, I would convince him to let me tell Rome what I saw, what I lived. Then Rome would see and feel, and with Glaber returning victorious from the titanic feat of defeating Spartacus and his men, he would finally wield enough power and public support to free himself from Ilithyia and Albinius. If played properly, he could even use Ilithyia's darkest secrets as leverage. He knows she murdered Licinia. He can be told about the truth behind her escape too. No longer bound to her, free to repudiate his wife, pursue his political ambitions and no longer under the shadow of only one senator who would do all he could to prevent his name from getting stained, but would have no choice but to act accordingly._

_Disinherited and alone, with no fortune and no name, where would you go, Ilithyia?_

_You would have no one but me, owner of everything in Capua and probably enjoying a fairly good position in Rome by the time._

_At last I am back in my bed, yet my mind refuses to rest, because that is not enough. Her father and husband, her fortune, those are not the things she values the most. All men favour her, did she not tell me that? I know her, and she will not stop, she will fight her way back where she thinks she belongs, refusing to fall and rising like a phoenix. No. Vengeance does not end mid-way. Her womanhood, her beauty. That is her true value, that is what makes her who she is. That is what I shall take away, not her life. Not for a long time. _

_Disfigured for life, in the arms of the woman she hates the most. And when she can bear it all again, when her lips attempt to smile, her eyes appreciate life after torturous years, then I shall take her life._

_Another visit by the medicus disrupts my thoughts. He seems pleased with my progress. I shall leave this house soon, he says. I long for the day. My body is exhausted when I'm left alone again. I can see Ashur paying him, but my eyelids are too heavy to keep them open. I need to blink the fatigue away._

_**OOO**_

_**IV. Crixus**_

_What seemed like an instant became hours of sleep, brusquely interrupted by pain. I hurt again. The nights are the worst. Turbulent dreams awake me, and Ashur's presence with the herbs is not comforting enough. I want Quintus by my side. But the Syrian is what I have left. I take the cup and drink, wishing the beverage works soon._ "Why are you here?," _I mumble between sips, despite knowing the answer._

"You were alive. If I had gone you would have died, Domina."

_No. Saving a life was not the reason. _"My husband trusted you. Do you think staying with me would grant you the same priviledges he gave you? Place in the villa, coin, wine and whores? Look around, Syrian, all you have is nothing, and the only women you could aspire for went running away following a Thracian cock." _He remains silent. The liquid warms my throat, and I lean back on the wall, tired of laying down._ "Ashur always has a reason. He is a survivor and always chooses right, does he not?" _I look him in the eyes. The eyes never lie._

"I have served this house since I can remember, Domina. I would not know where to go."

_Poor excuse for an old serpent._ "You have served this house because you had a value for us, and such thing was not your prowess with the sword." _His eyes betray him._ "You were brought here because we needed you to take our words to Dagan in our language, and never were a gladiator in the eyes of a brotherhood that closed its doors for you since the beginning. Yet Dagan gone and your fleeting days as a gladiator severed by Crixus, you found a way to survive, stay under our roof and rise. I always wondered why. Why would a slave want to live undermined by his 'brothers', in a world he did not belong to that constantly reminded him of all he had lost."

"I value my life."

"You value power. And quite possibly revenge." _Lately I have come to such understanding. He is but a slave, but perhaps the Syrian and I are not that different in our desires. _"You were betrayed by a brother, a man who took from you everything you valued." _He struggles, uncomfortable, with the truth._

"I no longer dream of the sands and the fight, Domina."

_Liar._ "And despite such claim, it was not that long ago that you presented yourself before Doctore, your leg healed, sword and shield in hand. It was my husband who kept you from further humiliation, who extended his hand to you and gave you the opportunity to nurture your true skills, who gave you worth and rewarded you for it."

"And my gratitude forever lies with him."

"But I am not my husband," _I remind him, _"and yet you stayed. You did not take advantage of the chaos and left with the opportunity to become a free man. You remained behind, a slave, willingly, while the man who destroyed you runs free." _He stands in silence. I look down to my wound. _"You want vengeance, you want him to suffer, like I do. So you know I can give that to you." _I rise my eyes again. _"Go fetch some paper and atramentum to write."

_As long as I feed the serpent with mice to eat, it shall remain by my side as a loyal dog. As for the animal we both despise, there is one thing Crixus cherises beyond glory, beyond his own life, and I know I can find her before he does, and when I do, I shall move the strings for Glaber to have her, and wherever you are, you thoughtless lion, you will know how she was publicly crucified, because I swear to Juno, I shall make them nail her to the woods and leave her there until you see the rotten body with your own eyes. _

_Ashur returns._ "Domina-"

"Give me the paper." _Yet he does not move. _"What are you waiting for?," _I ask annoyed at his stillness. Ashur seems hesitant, his eyes set on a small object in his hands, an object I soon recognize with infinite sadness._

"All the paper was used to help burn the bodies. The only thing I found was this, in Dominus' chamber."

_He finally approaches and hands me the writing tablet and the stylus. He was taught to write by Quintus, and my husband used a similar wax writing tool to avoid wasting paper. The same that children use in schools. The one Ashur gives me now is new, and unused. Quintus bought it with exaggerated anticipation in the market, soon after he found out I was with child. That same day he had insisted on purchasing himself the herbs I needed for my sickness, wearing his impending fatherhood with as much pride as a newborn senator would wear his purple stripe. _"When you go to the market as soon as dawn breaks, to purchase the slaves, make sure you bring back paper, atramentum and inkstands for it."

"Yes, Domina."

_Ashur bows his head and leaves. Alone again. The herbs have mercifully made their duty, yet I am not tired anymore. Sleep will not return tonight, and led by Mercurius, my thoughts take me to Spartacus._

_**OOO**_

_**V. Spartacus.**_

_The mere mention of his name, even in silence, is enough to tear my insides. I still hear his words, a voice filled with contempt as I lied helpless on the cold floor; of how he spoke of his wife, how he used me to torture Quintus until he decided to strike the fatal blow, only because he knew how much Quintus loved me. Even with his life quickly flowing from his open throat he managed to walk to me, to come die by my side. How dared he speak of love for his wife when he was fucking another? He committed a crime on the grounds of honour and loyalty while he had been raping them, plotting a revenge against the man who turned him into a legend and keeping his cock entertained with a slave. That man has no heart, and Mira being escaped with him, is an unreachable target._

_The only thing that would have hurt him would have been Varro. His premature death brings me to his widow, the woman who gave up her freedom. I cannot recall her name, yet Spartacus seemed very protective of her. Another improbable target, surely the Thracian made sure the woman and her son are protected._

_Spartacus fears not death either, that I know. How can you hurt a man who lost everything and has nothing to gain? What is his purpose now? What does he live for? Freedom? Revenge? He killed the man responsible for his wife's death. Would he, under the same banner, go after the man who first put the shackles on him and separated the man from his wife despite now loving another? Has he fooled himself to such lengths?_

_I do not know. He presents an enigma, and death or life in the mines chained until he dies is the only thing that may make a dent on his soul. I cannot hurt him, it is not in my power, no matter how much I wish it to be. No, that is a man's labour, and a true man, not a simple slave. Someone with power enough to lead an army. With the godess Fortuna by my side, perhaps I shall be allowed to see him die. _

_Because I know it. One day, Spartacus will die._

_**OOO**_

_**VI. One last move.**_

_I spend the following hours thinking, weaving my plans together, calculating the timing, for everything must happen according to plan. And as I let the mind wander, night leads way to daylight, and Morpheus claims me until the sun is high in the sky. _

_Soon Ashur returns, with the promised paper in hand and two girls I do not recognize behind him. _"They are of quality," _he assures regarding the slaves_, "untouched and purchased at fair price. When they recognized me and knew who the girls were for some men offered to buy them for you."

_Men already seeking my favour? In pursue of coin? _"Your answer?"

"Offer politely declined on your behalf. My words were soon followed by looks of admiration. The new magistrate approached me with word of his desire of you coming soon to his house."

_I nod in approval. _"Instruct them and make certain they know what they have to do, and make them presentable. Fetch robes from the other slaves. Leave them in the pool to clean themselves and return to my chamber."

"Yes, Domina."

_They leave and I take the paper and ink Ashur left on the bed. I am finishing when he enters the room again. I hand him the messages._

You still know how to read?"

"Yes, Domina."

_He takes the papers and reads them, his eyes round. _"You do know the merchant she was given to. Go find him and have him tell you whom Naevia was sold to. Then seek for Glaber in Rome and give him word of our discovery; he knows you so he shall know the message is legit and born from the best of intentions; were he to be sent in pursue of the rebels, such knowledge will be of invaluable worth."

"Yes, Domina."

"Make sure Glaber knows of my desire of all this horror ending, and my will and knowledge at his service to help him in any way possible."

"Your name is now well known in Capua, Domina, and your reputation will soon spread in all of the Republic. He shall welcome your help."

"One thing more."

"Domina."

"Take some extra coin as reward. You can give it to Naevia's owners."

_He nods in understanding. _"Gratitude, Domina."

"Do whatever you will with her, yet leave her unharmed."

"Yes, Domina."

"And Ashur."

"Yes, Domina?"

"I expect this shall quench your thirst for retribution."

"It will, Domina."

"I do not expect, however, for it to end your thirst for power." _Silence._ "Our path will not end but once we set foot in Rome." _Quintus' long time dream._

"By that time you shall be in Glaber's good favour, Domina, I am sure he-"

"Crassus."

"Domina?"

"What man has more power and coin than any other in Rome? Who steers the senate like a tamed saddled horse? Who could crush us like worms if the secret of his cousin's murder concealed under this very roof were to reach his ears?"

"Yet Glaber-"

"All in good time, Ashur. Many things must happen before Glaber parts after Spartacus. Ilithyia shall either come here or welcome us in her home, granting direct access to Rome's finest," _my vengeance upon her to come when the right time sets it to be_.

"Marcus Licinius Crassus among them."

"I shall approach him, and when the time is right, pour Ilithyia and Glaber's treason into his ears and unveiling the true role Ilithyia played too in the deaths of so many proper Romans. Crassus shall lead Rome against Spartacus, crushing the traitorous Glaber in the process."

"And you shall rise again in the core of the Republic."

_Everyone has a weakness. Everyone receives blows from life. By overcoming them, they rise, higher than ever before, while the rest fall._

_**Fin.**_


End file.
